


We All Wear Masks to Disguise Our Flaws

by DM500 (DapperMuffin)



Series: Reed900 Stuff [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Connor & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Grumpy Hank Anderson, Hank is just prince Connor's grumpy servant here, M/M, RK900 is Richard but nicknamed Nines, Richard is the king, Slow Dancing, and Gavin's a lord, and i love him for that, but Connor's still older than him, connor being that casual badass, friendly teasing, tina's that one nosy friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-11-23 05:32:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18147737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperMuffin/pseuds/DM500
Summary: Being a king isn't as easy as it seems, even for someone as attractive and charismatic as Richard. Sometimes it seems as though it would have been simpler had Connor accepted the throne like he was supposed to.Lord Gavin Reed wasn't big on the idea of some masquerade, but he knew that if he didn't go, his parents, the Lord and Lady Reed, would be all over him, and it was just easier to avoid the hassle of ever trying to talk to his parents, since he never seemed to do what they wanted.





	1. King

**Author's Note:**

> So uhhh
> 
> I got no excuses for this, I just wanted RK900 and Gavin to slow dance in fancy clothing, so here this is. And then I realized that masquerade balls are super romantic and uh that happened too. I ended up doing some research, then figured maybe this was better off as several chapters instead of a one-shot if I was going to do research anyway.

Richard felt a sigh escape his lips as he gazed out the window at the bustling city below. The roads were full of people walking, horse- and donkey-drawn carts dotted here and there. Merchants sitting in their booths were selling their wares, with varying degrees of success. Some days he’d even be down there among his people. Today was not one of those days.

 

A tentative knock came from the door behind him, and a quiet voice of feminine nature called through from the other side. “Your Majesty, your brother is here to see you.”

 

Some would be surprised to know that, despite being king, Richard was not, in fact, the oldest of his brothers; no,  _ that _ title would fall to Connor, who’d given up the chance at being king, claiming that Richard would make a much better ruler. It had come as a complete surprise to everyone, most of all Richard, considering Connor was the very picture of a king if he so wished to be. He had the kind heart, the voice of reason, and the strong will of a ruler, but despite all of that, and his own right to the throne, he’d decided that the second brother would be more suited to it.

 

Now, all that does not go to say that Richard made a  _ bad _ king; he too was a benevolent ruler, and he had an air about him that made him seem elegant and yet extremely intimidating if someone were to attempt to cross him.

 

“Let him in, Erika,” he answered, and another man who looked almost a clone of him entered the room, the maid named Erika having opened the door for him.

 

“Nines, I hope you have not forgotten that the ball is tonight,” his brother said, one eyebrow raised.

 

_ Nines _ was a nickname that Richard’s brothers tended to use more often than his own name by this point. It had come from the fact that he had been born on the ninth of September, 9/9, and Connor had, at some point while they were growing up, decided it seemed less stuffy, somehow, and their other brother had just gone along with the two of them.

 

Richard turned his head only slightly to look at him. “It…  _ may _ have slipped my mind, Connor,” he admitted.

 

The brown-eyed brother sighed. “We invited  _ everyone _ in the area, do you recall  _ now? _ You had better have your maidservant ready your clothing for tonight.” With a little flourish, he swept out of the room, stopping in the hallway to have a short exchange with one of his manservants, and Richard could hear every word.

 

“Come, Hank. There’s something I must attend to.”

 

“Yes, master.”

 

A sigh. “I’ve  _ told _ you that you can call me Connor, there’s no need for such formalities.”

 

“Well,  _ sir, _ it’s not proper for me to be anything but formal with you.” Richard could’ve sworn he’d heard an “in public” quickly muttered at the end of that statement, but he couldn’t be sure.

 

“Well, then, Hank, we’ve got somewhere else to be anyways.”

 

Hank was likely one of the older servants that were employed in their castle. Most servants stopped working there at around age fifty, that is, if they even lived that long, but Hank in particular was stubborn and a hard worker, and something in Richard highly suspected that if he’d tried to force Hank to leave, Connor would have raised a fuss. Therefore, the grumpy old man was still employed and living in their castle.

  
No sooner than Connor had left, another of his brothers entered. He had a faraway look in his eyes, and seemed as though he had been struck by some romantic fantasy he could not now shake.

 

“I just know tonight will be wonderful, and maybe somebody will ask me to dance,” sighed his youngest brother.

 

“Conan,” Richard chuckled softly, “You’re the prince, remember? They’ll all be expecting  _ you _ to ask  _ them _ to dance.”

 

Conan blinked, the spell partially broken. “Oh, right, silly me,” he giggled. “I wonder what sort of men you'll dance with tonight.” It was common knowledge in their kingdom by now that King Richard favored not the women, but the men. When the previous king and queen had still been alive and in power, Richard was forbidden to dance with or court anyone other than a woman, but now that they were gone and he was king, he was going to dance with whomever he pleased, and no one else would have any say whatsoever.

 

“Hey, Nines, what’s your mask going to look like?”

 

“Mask?” asked Richard, suddenly aware that he must have been listening even less when Connor had announced the ball then he’d thought he had.

 

Conan’s head tilted a little. “It’s a masquerade, brother, of course there will be masks.” He grinned, and Richard had the unbidden feeling that this evening was going to be far more entertaining than he’d originally anticipated. “My mask will be decorated with feathers and resemble a bird. Connor told me that it suits me, and I trust his opinion.”

 

“If I am to be truthful, I had not given the design of my mask much deliberation,” replied Richard thoughtfully. “I suppose… yes, that will have to do.”

 

“What did you think of?” piped up Conan eagerly.

 

Richard felt his eyebrows lift. “Why, little brother, it is to be a surprise.” Conan gave a small pout. “You must wait until tonight, like everyone else.”

 

“Alright then. I have things to do, so I will be on my way now, Nines.” Conan practically bounced out of the room in excitement.

 

Richard sighed momentarily before turning to Erika, who still stood in the doorway uncertainly. “Is there anybody else with anything about tonight's ball to remind me of?” She opened her mouth, and, knowing the irony was lost on her, he held up a hand to stop her. “It was rhetorical.”


	2. Lord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter lengths will vary, I guess, so this one's shorter than the first one, and they'll alternate between Gavin and Richard's perspectives.

It was almost… surreal up here, Gavin realized. Who knew how often he’d fled to the tallest tower in the mansion to avoid “socializing” with his parents and their frequent guests. It was strange, how much one could see from up there, it was a vantage point for almost the entire town as he sat on the ledge, head leaned back against the stone of the window frame.

 

He could hear someone attempting the long climb up to the top of the tower, their footsteps falling irregularly and heavily as they had to keep slowing to catch their breath, but it wasn’t long before the owner of the footsteps finally made it up.

 

“Remind me why you come up here again?” huffed Tina, Gavin’s maidservant. “It’s...such a long climb.”

 

“That’s the point,” he smirked at her misfortune, raising one eyebrow in response. “That way, the Lord and Lady won’t ever come up to talk to me and they’ll just send someone else. Like you.”

 

“Well, that  _ is _ a good point.” Tina was doubled over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. “I was sent up here to remind you that there’s a masquerade ball going on and the princes have invited you, among many others. Your costume is in your room.” Seeming almost sour, she straightened back up, having managed to find her breath.

 

“Hey, y’know, I could sneak you out of the house,” Gavin offered, feeling guilty now that, since Tina was just a servant, she could never accompany him to these things. “If you really wanted to go.”

 

She gave a wry smile. “No, I’ve learned my lesson. As much as I’d love to go, I know they’ll fire me this time if I leave again without permission.”

 

“Well, alright,” he answered, looking back out over the town. Shortly after, he heard her leave, but he remained up there for a good while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it in the endnotes of We're All Broken, but I want to say it again here: I'm looking for a beta reader who's got Tumblr, so if you'd like to read chapters of my fanfictions and one-shots early and edit for me, drop a comment and I'll send you my Tumblr.


	3. Hiding Behind Our Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5:37 is a great time for an upload— jk where is my sleep tho where does it go
> 
> I have not really proofread this chap, so if something seems wonky lemme know

Richard had to admit that Connor was efficient in welcoming the guests, as he was maintaining a steady stream of people trickling in. He suspected that most of the guests weren't actually sure whether they'd been greeted by the eldest or youngest brother; Connor and Conan were almost identical, despite having been born seven years apart, and many of their subjects had trouble figuring out which one was which if they weren't both in the same place at the same time.

  
Come to think of it, where was Conan? Connor had mentioned earlier that he was down in the kitchens, but Richard hadn't seen him exit. Odd. He set aside the piece of information for later.

  
He'd chosen to forgo his throne for the evening, due to the fact that he was the only one permitted to sit in it, which would clearly reveal his identity. Instead, he leaned back against the wall and let the soft melody of the violins and string instruments carry his mind away.

  
And for a short while, Richard's thoughts wandered through enchanting starlit forests and vast, sprawling lands of his fantasy, until he was brought abruptly back to his body in the present. Opening his eyes, a slight frown on his face, he glanced subtly around for the thing that had disturbed his imagination, only his eyes moving.

  
At last, he discovered the source of the unease he felt in his chest. On the other side of the ballroom, another man was watching him from the other side of a dark mask. Richard appraised the man for a moment; he wasn't bad-looking, at least what Richard could see of him. He fell a little on the shorter side of average height, and he too was leaning against a wall.

  
Richard made up his mind, and slowly began to make his way across the ballroom. He must have been lost in the far reaches of his dream-world longer than he'd thought, as the room was far more crowded than it had been before he'd sunk into the depths of his own mind.

  
Now that Richard was near him,he could sense the almost rugged aura emanating off the man—despite his attire being that of someone rich—who had kept a wary eye on him as he approached.

  
“Do I know you?” inquired Richard once he was close enough for the man to hear, giving him a small wink.

  
“No, I don't think so,” the other replied, seeming mildly surprised by the wink.

  
“What should I call you, stranger?” Richard continued. It was common knowledge that one had to prepare a nickname or alias when attending a masquerade, something temporary to be called for the evening.

  
“You can call me G,” he answered with a one-shoulder shrug.

  
“Ah. Well, my friends call me Nines.” It was a safe bet that if Richard wasn't immediately recognized, nobody would figure out who he was from his nickname. Only his brothers called him Nines, and the only other people who knew he went by that name would be working to serve guests tonight.

  
G gave a short bark of a laugh. “Nines, huh?”

  
“It’s a long story.” Richard smirked under his mask; it wouldn't take him too long to explain, but he'd rather remain as enigmatic as possible, to be mysterious.

  
Richard joined G, letting himself lean on the wall behind them. He surveyed the other people in the ballroom, letting his eyes roam over the guests and masked servants. Several couples had already begun an improvised slow dance near the center of the room, making up the moves as they went.

  
“I don't suppose you'd like a dance?” He offered a hand to G, who took it cautiously.

  
“I don't see why not,” came the almost teasing retort, and Richard gently tugged his hand to pull G out into the room. His hand found its place on his partner's back, the other one still gripping G's hand.

  
Richard found it very interesting how they seemed to fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle; it had not taken more than a few seconds to properly position their hands. They performed a slow step from side to side, G seeming to deliberately avoid his eyes.

  
“I like the look of your mask, how did you decide on it?” Richard questioned, hoping to cause G to open up, to lose some of the tenseness hidden under his casual attitude.

  
“Uh, my servant picked it, actually. I mean, I like it too.” G glanced up for a moment, meeting Richard's eyes for only a second before darting away again.

  
He switched to a different tactic. “You seem like a distinguished gentleman, so why is it that you seem so uncomfortable? It isn't me, is it?”

  
“No, no, it's not you, it's just… Usually when I go to these kinds of functions, nobody wants to dance with me. It took me aback when you asked me, that's all.” He almost sounded nervous, Richard reflected.

  
“Oh? I would have thought you'd be popular, ladies practically lining up to dance with you. ...Or men.” It was in no way a lie.

  
“Me? No way. I've got too much of an ‘attitude’ for that,” chuckled G.

  
They fell back into silence, dancing to the sound of violins and the other guests’ quiet murmurs. It occurred to Richard that the song currently being played by the orchestra was one he was familiar with, and he couldn't help but hum along.

  
“You have a pretty voice,” G said, and as his eyes widened, Richard had to assume he hadn't meant to say anything, and it simply slipped out.

  
“Thank you.” He dropped his hand from G's back to his waist, as the other man seemed more comfortable now, and, seeing as G didn't react negatively, Richard was pleasantly surprised.

  
Over G's shoulder, Richard watched as one of his two brothers pulled another man further out into the room. When he turned, Richard noticed that the mask on his brother's face was that of Conan's bird mask, but the way he carried himself… and Richard recognized that head of gray hair belonging to his brother's dance partner, despite the mask he'd donned to hide his face. Had Connor and Conan surreptitiously swapped roles and masks? He would have to deal with that later.

  
“What are you looking at?” G asked, and Richard looked at him.

  
“Oh, I thought I recognized someone, that's all,” he said, and he only bent the truth slightly.

  
The song ended, rather abruptly, it seemed, and Richard released G, taking a step back. “Thank you for the dance, stranger.” With a quick wink, he turned away, and G was left staring after him.


	4. A Careful Dance of Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, but from Gavin's perspective. (Uploaded a day early, too, to make up for having skipped last week)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter went on, he became... more and more of a gay mess. Sorry about that.
> 
> ALSO: I'm changing my upload schedule so I can keep up with less stress. This fic will be uploaded on Saturday or Sunday (so not much change there), my Undertale fic will be Tuesdays, "Sometimes the heart sees..." (super long title yikes, it's abbr. now) will be Wednesday or Thursday, and my chat AU will be Fridays and mayyybe Mondays since I have so many chapters queued up now.

Gavin frowned underneath his mask. Despite the late hour, the castle was well-lit by various lanterns and candles on the windowsills.

 

While he didn't want to be here, his 'parents' had insisted he go early, rather than his usual 'fashionably late.' And so he'd stifled his groans and quietly went along with their plan.

 

One of the princes greeted him at the door; if he was to be honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure which one. He'd never been able to tell them apart, so most of the time he just guessed. Entering the ballroom, he headed straight for a wall; he wasn't going to 'mingle' if he could help it. In fact, Gavin would rather avoid socializing with the guests who typically attended these kind of parties altogether, as they were usually incredibly snotty and loved any scrap of gossip they could get their white-gloved hands upon.

 

Instead, he listened to the soft, sweeping notes of music from the orchestra, and his eyes wandered the room before fixing upon a young man.

 

The other man was unusually tall, not terribly so, but still noticeably. He seemed to fit right in with all of the decorations and partygoers; he exuded elegance, even as he leaned his head back against a wall, eyes closed, lost in the strings' music.

 

Gavin reminded himself to refrain from staring, and indeed, he attempted to do so, but found his eyes kept returning to the man, and eventually decided it was futile.

 

He was taken by aback when the tall man opened his eyes, looking almost immediately at him, and knew he'd been caught staring. Still, Gavin couldn't look away, even as the stranger began to cross the ballroom in his direction. He'd hoped that perhaps the stranger wasn't going over there for him, but to no avail.

 

"Do I know you?" The stranger winked at him, and Gavin thought that perhaps his eyes and ears were conspiring against him to cause him to see and hear things that weren't there.

 

"No, I don't think so." He was almost certain of that, even if he had been taken aback by the wink.

 

"What should I call you, stranger?" Oh no. An attractive man had not only initiated a conversation with Gavin, but had continued talking to him.

 

"You can call me G." He shrugged one of his shoulders, trying not to seem nervous.

 

The other man raised one eyebrow. "Ah. Well, my friends call me Nines."

 

Gavin laughed a little in surprise. "Nines, huh?" He wondered about the origin of the nickname.

 

"It's a long story." Nines' eyes remained locked on Gavin's own for an instant before joining him as he leaned on the wall too, and then he watched the couples dancing in the middle of the room. Gavin pretended as though he too was watching the dancing, but he was actually watching Nines out of the corner of his mask.

 

Nines offered Gavin one of his gloved hands. "I don't suppose you'd like a dance?"

 

How... unexpected. However, Gavin supposed it couldn't hurt, and this way he was following his parents' expectations for once.

 

"I don't see why not," he answered teasingly, and Nines began to pull Gavin further out into the middle of the room. One of Nines' hands settled on his back, and he didn't let go of the hand he was holding, simply repositioned it as to make the dance more comfortable. The places where Nines was touching Gavin almost felt warm, a kind of pleasant tingly sensation.

 

"I like the look of your mask, how did you decide on it?" Gavin wished now that he'd picked out his own mask, so that he could be happy that Nines liked it.

 

"Uh, my servant picked it, actually." He hurried to add, "I mean, I like it too." Quickly, he glanced up at Nines' face, only to discover that the other man had been looking at him, and their eyes met for a second; however, Gavin was too scared he'd screw something up to maintain eye contact for very long with someone he found attractive.

 

Nines seemed to consider what to say next. "You seem like a distinguished gentleman, so why is it that you seem so uncomfortable? It isn't me, is it?"

 

Internally, Gavin panicked; he hadn't meant to make Nines think anything of the sort. Externally, he focused intensely on not tripping over his words in his scramble to reply. "No, no, it's not  _ you _ , it's just... Usually when I got to these kinds of functions, nobody wants to dance with me. It took me aback when you asked me, that's all." He hated the audible quiver in his voice.

 

"Oh? I would have thought you'd be popular, ladies practically lining up to dance with you. ...or men." Nines was clearly flirting with him, but Gavin couldn't help but notice the absurdity of such an idea.

 

He chuckled. "Me? No way. I've got too much of an 'attitude' for that." At least, his 'attitude' was what his parents always complained about, and he suspected they were probably right; he did have a bit of a temper.

 

His dance partner didn't reply, and Gavin racked his brain for something to start a new conversation about, coming up blank, so he kept his mouth shut, and he was glad he did when Nines began to quietly hum along with the melody played by the violins.

 

"You have a pretty voice," slipped out of his mouth, and Nines abruptly stopped humming.

 

"Thank you." Gavin showed no outward reaction as his dance partner's hand slid down to his waist, resolving to act as though it didn't affect him as much as it actually did.

 

Nines' eyes fixed on something behind him, and Gavin, who couldn't see what he was looking towards, wondered.

 

"What are you looking at?" he inquired, and Nines' gaze returned to his face.

 

"Oh, I thought I recognized someone, that's all."

 

The song ended with little warning, and Gavin felt a small pang of something as Nines let go of him. "Thank you for the dance, stranger." He winked again, and it made Gavin's insides flutter once more (something he ignored; he hadn't gotten a silly infatuation for some spoiled, rich gentleman after a single dance). Either way, he found himself rooted in place as he watched the aforementioned ‘gentleman’ leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with this, it's kinda sloppy, but I think it's the best I can do right now. Next chapter will pick up after the ball from both Richard's and Gavin's perspectives.
> 
> (Also, alternate chapter title: "Gavin's a dunce who's too gay to notice that the incredibly hot guy he's dancing with is actually the king in a mask")


	5. Roaming Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I managed to get back the proper feel of the story even after last chapter. Anyway, enjoy!

Both Connor and Conan fidgeted uncomfortably under Richard’s harsh stare, and Hank, standing off to one side, simply watched as Richard attempted to cause his brothers to admit what they’d done.

 

After another minute, Conan blurted, “Okay, fine! I switched places with Connor.”

 

Connor’s expression was that of alarm. “It was my idea, Nines, don't blame Conan.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Fine. I wanted to dance with Hank, and as it was a masquerade, it seemed the prime chance to do so without being discovered. Don’t punish Hank either, he didn’t think it was a good idea, yet I pressured him into doing it.”

 

Richard raised an eyebrow at the older prince. “And would I be correct in presuming that you have feelings for him?”

 

“You… would be correct,” Connor answered hesitantly as, audibly sighing, Hank covered his face with one hand.

 

Now Richard observed his brother, a strange, somehow calculating, look in his piercing blue eyes. He said nothing, but after an extended moment, his gaze flicked briefly away from Connor before returning to his face. “Alright. I have no punishments to give. I only ask that, if you are to try something of the sort again, that you inform me of your intentions beforehand.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Connor hastened to say under Richard’s stern look.

 

The king ran a hand through his once-perfect hair, suddenly seeming quite exhausted. “Alright, you are all dismissed. I bid you leave my chambers.”

 

The two princes and the servant filed out, Conan closing the door behind him, and once he was sure they were out of earshot, Richard sank down onto his bed. He truly wondered as to why the masked stranger from last night, G, kept returning to the forefront of his thoughts. He had gone on to dance with several other men, but it had felt somehow less fulfilling, and G was the one he thought of, so what had made that man special, compared to the others?

 

* * *

 

Gavin stared up at the canopy of his bed from where he’d promptly collapsed the night before, upon reaching the safety of his room. Tina had offered to help him change, but he’d refused her, telling her to go sleep herself, and he’d slept in his costume, sans the mask.

 

He looked over at the nightstand, where the mask had sat since he’d taken it off post-party. It hadn't been his intention, but against his will, he found that his eyes kept going back to the mask, and with it came back thoughts of the dashing Nines–and the unbidden reminder of the pang of what he now realized as  _ jealousy _ that had plagued him when Nines had gone on to dance with other men after him. He groaned; he hadn’t asked for any of these feelings that had developed so quickly.

 

A familiar knock issued at the door. “ _ Sir. _ ” Clearly a sarcastic tone, and he recognized it as Tina's. “Permission to enter?”

 

“Come in,” he said, and she entered.

 

Tina appeared dismayed to see him still laying where he'd fallen upon his bed after the party. “You didn't change on your own, yet you refused my assistance.”

 

“I was tired, okay, T?” Gavin gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Oh, hell.”

 

Tina looked at him, confused. “What is the problem?”

 

“Some attractive rich man asked me to dance at the party, and I can't stop thinking about him.” Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to banish thoughts of the gem-adorned mask from his mind.

 

“ _ Ooh _ .” Oh no, he'd gotten Tina interested, and he knew that if Tina found out he was…  _ infatuated… _ with someone, she wouldn't drop the subject until he told her the details. “Tell me more about this  _ rich man _ .”

 

“Ugh, fine. He caught me staring and struck up a conversation before asking me to dance. I said, 'why not?’ and so then we danced. Happy?”

 

Leaning her elbows on one of Gavin's bookshelves, she frowned. “That can't be everything.”

 

Gavin rested a hand on his forehead. He loved Tina, he did, but sometimes she could be too much. “He’s tall and has these piercing ice-blue eyes. His voice is deeper than you would expect from looking at him and it’s smooth. The way he holds himself is elegant, which I would typically harbor a disliking towards, but if it’s him then I don’t mind.” He heard Tina squeal, and shot a glare her way.

 

“My apologies.” She cleared her throat, still grinning. “Of  _ course _ you’d fall for someone like that, he is clearly the kind of man you’d prefer.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” scoffed Gavin.

 

“Well, if your past ‘infatuations’ are anything to go by…” She trailed off, well aware he knew what she had meant. “What’s his name?”

 

“I don’t know that, Tina. I just know he went by ‘Nines,’ and said it was a ‘long story.’” Staring at the canopy again, Gavin tried in vain to stop his mind from wandering back to the dance they had shared and the warm feeling of Nines’ hand on his waist.

 

“Hmmm, I suppose you really  _ are _ infatuated.” Gavin blinked; Tina’s voice had come from in front of him, and he startled as he saw she was leaning over him, but when had she moved? “You have never been so far into  _ daydream land _ over one man before, maybe he’s  _ the one _ this time _. _ ”

 

“Not  _ again. _ ” She kept nagging him about finding a man to ‘settle down with,’ but it wasn’t as though she was his mother; although perhaps that would be preferable to the one he had now. “T, you said that about the last two.”

 

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I did; however, I had that gut feeling.”

 

“Maybe your gut feelings are bullshit.” She gasped in mock offense, and he dodged the pillow she threw at his head. “Alright, I’ll get up now. Could you leave?”

 

“If you  _ insist. _ ” Tina flounced out, still playing the ‘pretending to be insulted’ card, yet he knew she would return later to pester him further on the subject of this ‘Nines.’ For now, however, he reveled in the temporary peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this and you liked it, feel free to drop a comment down below.  
> Alternatively, if you have any advice, constructive criticism, or noticed a typo, drop that in a comment down below too.
> 
> Also, hit me up on Tumblr @dalekator. I'd love to talk about DBH or a variety of other topics; send me a message or submit an ask and I'll do my best to answer it.


	6. Second Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry, I know this isn't much with the wait I gave you, but I'm having trouble getting the story to feel right. Also, yeah, longer waits in between chapters are to be expected. I'm focusing on one of my fics from another fandom, and updating the others more slowly because keeping up with a lot of stories at once is stressful.

Richard took a deep breath, inhaling the rich smell of the street market. He'd been quite relieved--- when Erika had told him nothing was scheduled until the afternoon. Perhaps one of his typical strolls through the marketplace would help clear his head, and distract him from the frequent, peculiar thoughts of the enigmatic G.

 

In his peripheral vision, he saw someone move. Watching the mystery person out of the corner of his eye, he was relieved to discover it was only the bodyguard, Luther; Connor or Conan must have instructed him to tail Richard, as had frequently happened. His brothers tended to worry about his wellbeing, but it was typical to have to worry, as rulers often had citizens who were not satisfied with the way they ruled and resorted to violence, although it had been years since such an incident had occurred.

 

He smiled at a little girl who stood staring at him as he passed. Richard had long despised the picture of being royal that his parents had painted for him as a child, haughty and egoistic; much preferring to interact with his citizens rather than simply observe from afar, as it was a good way to stay up-to-date with news, and walking among his people was one of the best ways to do so.

 

Lost in his own head, Richard didn't notice the man walking towards him until they ran right into each other. As the man pulled back, Richard thought something seemed familiar about him, but the thought vanished in an instant as he met the man's eyes. His eyes were gray at first glance, but the longer he looked, he started to notice little shards of color in them, particularly green.

 

Something flickered in the man's eyes, some kind of recognition, and he gasped, "It's you." Shoving himself away from Richard, he looked around frantically before turning on his heel to run.

 

"Wait!" Richard called, but the man didn't turn, and he was left to his confusion.

 

Luther stepped up slightly behind him. "Who was that?"

 

"I'm not sure," frowned Richard.

 

\---

 

Gavin always reveled in the feeling that came with sneaking out of the mansion, although said feeling had declined in intensity over the years as he'd repeated the feat. Now he walked along the street the market was located on, his pace a leisurely stroll, having removed the more ornate or decorative parts of his clothing before leaving "home."

 

If Gavin was honest, it had been years since he'd considered the Reed Manor "home," if he ever had in the first place, and the Lord and Lady were only parents in name.

 

Indeed, as a child, Gavin had been handed over to a nurse, who'd taken care of him, as his parents were always "far too busy" to look after him, but once he'd reached sixteen, she'd been sent away, never to come back. She had been more of a parent to Gavin than the Lord and Lady had ever been.

 

Gavin glared daggers at a little boy who shoved him as he ran past. This street was too crowded for his tastes, and usually his walks were along less populated streets. However, today a cart had fallen over on his usual route and couldn't be righted, causing a blockage, and he'd been forced to turn back and change directions.

 

A stand selling silver trinkets caught his eye, and, distracted, Gavin didn't notice the man coming from the other direction until they collided.

 

Gavin's eyes squeezed shut as he walked straight into someone, but he looked up after a moment (incredibly self-conscious) ...and froze.

 

He was looking into a pair of eyes the palest blue he'd ever seen, such distinctive eyes that he recognized them immediately, and once he knew the eyes, he realized that he was, quite frankly, an idiot.

 

He couldn't help the murmur of "It's you" that escaped his lips without permission, and he winced.  _ Please don't recognize me. _ He shoved Nines away, turning on his heel to flee the way he'd come, cursing himself for being so dense.

  
  
  


Afternoon came, and Tina found Gavin spread-eagled once more on his bed, staring blankly, face mildly flushed.

 

"Gavin?" she asked quietly, taking care not to startle him, which turned out to be unnecessary, as he didn't respond. She waved a hand in front of his face, and he finally blinked, looking up at her face as he noticed she was there. "Did something happen when you snuck out?" Tina looked pointedly at the lack of adorning details on his jacket, and he groaned.

 

"I'm an idiot. There's no other way around it."

 

She blinked. "Well, I'm glad you've finally come to terms with that fact."

 

"No, I mean…" How could he have been so stupid? Of course Nines’ eyes and the air he’d given off had seemed familiar‒he was the fucking  _ King _ , and Gavin was just an idiot. He’d gone and fallen for a king. He had no chance.

 

Gavin sat up. “Tina.” His voice was grave. “That Nines guy, the guy I danced with, I literally bumped into him today. The thing is…” Tina was hanging on his every word, and he couldn’t help but insert a dramatic pause to keep her in suspense. “Nines is  _ King Richard. _ ”

 

Tina stared at him blankly. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, I’m  _ sure. _ ” Gavin nodded fervently. “There’s not a lot of guys who look like  _ that _ .”

 

“Well, shit,” remarked Tina. “That’s quite an issue you’ve got then, huh? Did you talk to him? Did he recognize you?”

 

“I didn’t talk to him, and I don’t know if he recognized me.” Gavin tried to recall the way Ni‒ _ the king _ had reacted.

 

“Oof,” said Tina. “That sounds like a  _ you _ problem, I got nothin.”

 

And with that, she left him to his own devices.


	7. Of Letters and Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Connor has begun plotting behind his brother's back. Gavin receives a summons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeez, i'm so sorry, guys! I'm definitely still writing this, I don't know why this took me so long to work up the motivation, it's not even quite a thousand words. I've been surprisingly busy with a new fandom, but i'm not abandoning the works in this one, no matter how long it'll take me in between chapters. feel free to yell at me in the comments for the delay. i've figured out more of how to connect the plot points now, though, which is good. again, i'm really sorry, and i hope you enjoy

Connor fought with his grin. "You say this man was shorter than average height, possibly gray or green eyes, and had brown hair?" He leaned forward in his seat on the throne.

 

"Yes." Luther stood stock-still before the elder prince. "Your Highness, I do not mean to question you, but I am not sure His Majesty would appreciate you meddling in his affairs, particularly those of the romantic nature."

 

Connor huffed a laugh. "Don't worry, Luther, if and  _ when _ my brother discovers my 'meddling,' I shall take full responsibility. Today you told me nothing, correct? This meeting did not occur." Luther nodded gratefully. "Now be gone." The muscular man did as he was told, exiting the room with head bowed.

 

Connor chuckled. He knew the secret identity of the masked man who may very well have stolen his brother's heart. Out loud, he muttered, "Lord Gavin Reed, hm? He thinks he can slip away just like that…? Well, we'll see about that." He clapped his hands once, calling out, "Kara!" and his maid scurried in to serve him. She'd been waiting just outside the throne room, listening for her name.

 

"Yes, master?" she asked, hands behind her back in a submissive posture.

 

"I need you to transcribe and deliver a letter for me." Normally Connor would have Hank do this kind of thing, but after their illicit dance, they were both in enough trouble already, and it wouldn’t do if they were caught. No, it would be better to have another of their servants do the work for him. He cleared his throat. "Write it out to a Lord Gavin Reed."

 

* * *

  
  


"Gavin." Tina burst into Gavin's room, forgetting to knock. "You have a letter." Tina's expression struck Gavin, but what exactly she was trying to convey with her eyes he wasn't sure. "It has the royal seal." She lowered her voice, and Gavin felt a wave of goosebumps cover his arms.

 

_ How had they found him? _ His mind raced with possibilities as he ripped open the letter with shaking hands.

 

"'Lord Gavin Reed,'" he read aloud, attempting to hold the paper still enough to make out the words. "'It has come to my attention that you would be a more than worthy suitor for my brother.'" He glanced up at Tina, and she gestured excitedly for him to continue. "'Meet me outside the castle wall on the West wing at ten past six this afternoon. Let us go for a walk, alone.'" He blinked at the signature before reading it with a trembling voice. "'Prince Connor.’”

 

“Huh.” Tina leaned on one hand, gaze unreadable as she stared at Gavin. “Look who caught the attention of the royal family. If the king’s  _ brother _ has noticed you, then you  _ must _ have caught the king’s attention.”

 

“Yeah, must have,” muttered Gavin, eyes downcast, suddenly acutely aware of the heavy implications that dancing with a king truly entailed. He couldn’t fathom why the prince wished to speak with him directly, although being a potential suitor for the king did have a certain appeal to it, and he had to stop his imagination from running amok with possibilities.

 

Tina cleared her throat, and Gavin realized she was still staring at him. “So?”

 

“So?” he echoed.

 

Tina rolled her eyes. “You’re going to meet up with him, right?”

 

Gavin let out a long exhale, eyes wandering as he considered. He couldn’t very well  _ ignore _ a summons from the prince, as much as he didn’t trust him. If the king wished to see Gavin, wouldn’t  _ he _ have sent a letter and not his brother? But then again, the king  _ was _ known for exactly two things: being a strong ruler and extremely independent, so perhaps he might be too stubborn to summon Gavin…?

 

“Yes,” he said decisively. It surely couldn’t hurt to take the prince up on his offer, if not just to hear what he had to say. “I think I will.” At the very least, it couldn’t possibly leave him with more questions than he already had.

 

So as the sun began to set, casting its orange glow across the horizon, Gavin found himself waiting by the West wall of the castle, feelings of trepidation only growing with every minute the prince was delayed. He checked his pocket watch in the dim light, ensuring that it  _ was, _ in fact, ten past six, and then checked the letter, reassuring himself that the time he was supposed to arrive had indeed  _ been _ ten past six. Restlessly, his fingers began to tap against his thigh in a rhythm of  _ one-two-three-stop, one-two-three-stop _ .

 

A loud  _ thud _ came from behind him, and Gavin spun around to see… Prince Connor, who’d just landed behind him with the grace of a cat, seemingly having jumped from a window above him. He held a hand to his chest, willing his heart to slow its frantic, erratic hammering.

 

In the fading light of the sunset, the prince’s eyes almost seemed to glow, his head covered by a hood. He appeared miraculously unhurt by the long fall, and once more, Gavin’s gaze flicked up to the window just above him in another attempt to judge the distance but found he could not.

  
“My apologies,” spoke the prince, voice soft as he took several steps forward towards Gavin, whose instinct was to flinch away, but he forced himself to stay right where he was standing. “I was, shall we say,  _ held up _ inside. However, I am here now. Let us walk.”


End file.
